Cordelia
by LovelyTomorrow
Summary: Instead of becoming a higher being at the end of Season Three, Cordelia was kidnapped.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Cordelia

Summary: Instead of becoming a higher being, Cordelia was kidnapped at the end of Season Three.

Rating: R (language, content)

Distribution: I would be so flattered. Please, tell me if you'd like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Joss does.

Feedback: Please.

AN: I don't know where I'm going with this. Suggestions would be fantastic.

I want him dead. I want to corner him in a very dark alley and rip his throat out with my bare hands, and I don't think I would feel a twinge of guilt.

_Oh, God, her face_.

Cordelia is asleep now. They gave her drugs in her I.V. There's no way she would be able to sleep without them. She probably won't be able to sleep for a very long time.

The doctor said we should be happy she's alive. I wanted to punch him. She was taken from us--from her friends, her family, her safety. She was taken and cut and raped and beaten. For three months. There's no much rage in my being; I have no room left for gratitude.

Her whole body is cut. The shallow gashes will heal, but she'll have scars for the better part of the rest of her life. The deepest ones--the one's on her back--she'll need stitches for them. They'll hurt every time she bends over or sits down.

Her eyes are red from all the crying she's done in the past months. I haven't heard her laugh in such a long time, and I don't think I will for awhile after tonight.

When I went to hold her earlier, she flinched. She'll never be able to trust again--not really. She'll always be afraid. She'll always feel alone. I need to rip his throat out.

"Angel?" It's Fred's voice. She's been crying, too. Her voice is weak; she swallows hard. "There's a detective here. She wants to talk to Cordelia."

"Cordelia's asleep." I still haven't turned to look at her. I can't take my eyes off the bed. I have to protect her.

"Oh." She's hurt that I haven't opened up to them. She wants me to be part of the group and sit in the lobby with them, but I can't. I just can't. "All right, then. I'll, uh, I'll tell her that." She leaves, not expecting a response from me.

Cordelia stirs in her sleep when Fred closes the hospital door. She tried to close it quietly, but they always thud. Cordy moves onto her back and winces, then moves to her right side, facing me. Her eyes are still closed. She's not ready to wake up.

Connor cried when he saw her. I'd never seen him do that since Quar'toth. He's at the hotel, now. He said he wants to live there. After all this is over, I'll be happy about that.

He hasn't asked anyone what 'rape' means.

Its good that he cares. More good than he knows. He's all she's ever going to have--like me.


	2. Chapter 2

Ooh, you kept on reading! Yay!

**Cordelia: Part Two**

They wouldn't let me be in the room with her when they told her everything. They said I wasn't family. She said she would be okay.

Physically she had a broken leg, broken ribs, sprained wrist, and a concussion. No big deal. Sticks and stones…

I could hear them through the door, and I could see her through the glass. They said that intercourse would most likely always be "uncomfortable" for her, both physically and emotionally. I could almost hear her heart sink. She's so young.

And then they dropped the bomb. They left it until last.

Sterile.

_Oh, God, her face._

She broke down at that point. More tears. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to cradle her and make it all better.

I came in then--blood relation or no--and the doctors left as my best friend fell limp in my arms. She was like a doll. She wept with me for a long time before she finally looked at me in the eyes. We held each others gaze for a moment, and then she lay her head down on my shoulder, holding her arms around my neck.

"I feel deficient." They first words out of her mouth were quiet and fearful.

"You're not," I shot back too quickly. "This doesn't change who you are."

"Yes, it does," she looked thoughtful. "I feel like part of me was…stolen."

I sigh. I want to agree with her. I want to tell her that it's not okay what he did to her. I want to say that we're going to kill him. "But you are still strong and amazing and--"

She shook her head. "I'm supposed to be." She looks almost confused. "I'm supposed to be strong and important and overcome this shit." I don't like hearing her say that word. It sends shivers up my spine. "I'm supposed to be able to fight. I'm supposed to defend myself. I'm not supposed to be a fucking damsel in distress, Angel. I'm not supposed to sit and wait for you to save me."

She sounds like she's going to cry again, but I won't let that happen. She doesn't need to cry with me. With me, she's safe and loved and protected. I run a hand up and down her back. "Cordelia."

"I let him do this to me. I let him ruin me. I crumbled. I wept and screamed and prayed. I never fought. I never even tried. How god damned pathetic is that, Angel? I never even tried!" She's angry; her eyes are cloudy.

"Doesn't matter." I try to look strong. "None of that can touch you."

She gives up. I'm too stubborn to see her point. Putting her head down, she sighs. "I'm so tired."

"The nurse said she can put something in the I.V. to help you sleep," I tell her softly.

"Oh," she nods, "That's good." And that's all we say. The nurse comes in and puts the drug in the bag beside Cordelia's bed. She turns away from me and closes her eyes.

Through the back of the hospital gown I can see the welts on her back. Fishing hook…on a whip, I conclude, hating the fact that I know it.

I want him dead.

**More to come. Expect a Cordelia/Connor talk about why killing rapists is wrong. Expect Wesley to make an appearance. Expect a not extremely happy ending.**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, update! How are you? Haven't seen you in a while. You look good. How are the kids? **

It's funny how emotions fade.

Not, "Ha ha," funny of course, but strange and almost unfair.

Cordelia comes home today. Business is uncommonly busy. We've got rats in upscale bathrooms and snakes in downtown apartments, and I can't make myself care about any of it.

She's gonna stay at the hotel for now, because the doctors don't want her to be alone. She decided that it would be easier to stay with me than to try and explain Phantom Dennis to them. I think she's doing better. I haven't seen her laugh too much, but she talks and nods and looks genuinely interested in what her friends and co-workers say to her to make any kind of awkward conversation. She's really ready to come home--I wouldn't say "excited," but definitely ready. She's tired of the hospital.

So, it'll be Cordelia, Connor, Fred, Gunn, and me in the hotel. Wesley's the only one who won't be living here. Gotta say, I don't mind that too much.

The police still haven't found the man who did this to her--the one I wanted to kill. They said they're doing all they can. Cordelia nodded and thanked them. I inwardly scoffed with her. We were being pacified and would soon be forgotten--a cold case. Fine--it didn't matter as long as I could keep her safe. If they can sleep at night knowing that this man is out there, then its on them. Not me. As long as she's safe.

I guess I don't want to kill him anymore. Just hurt him--a lot. Killing him wouldn't work too well--too many issues. It's funny how emotions fade.


	4. Chapter 4

**Kay, we've heard enough of Angel. Let's see what Cordy's got to say about all this.**

She's in here somewhere; I know she is. That girl who would smile and laugh and flip her hair--the girl they all wish I would be.

The hospital let me out a week ago, and I've been staying with Angel. He's so overprotective in the most annoying way. Every time I blink or sigh or anything, he's on me in a second. "Are you okay?", "Do you wanna talk?", "You know I'm here for you." I know he's trying to help, so I can't be upset. I just want to go back to normal. I want to be me again.

I fell asleep last night without crying--a small milestone on this road back to normalcy. Angel doesn't know. I don't want him to. He doesn't know I've been crying.

I feel guilty for not breaking down to Angel, besides the first time at the hospital. He's put so much effort into making sure I'm okay, I feel like he should be the first one to know that I'm not.

I'm awake before everyone else, a recently common occurrence. I go downstairs to experience the Hyperion before my friends have a chance to make me feel helpless. I can turn the light on, because everyone is fast asleep. They had a long day. The sky rained of fire, and they defeated this gigantic beast. They were beat and bloody when they came home. Angel could barely walk when he came up to me and asked, "Are you all right?" I wanted to hit him, but I was afraid he would fall over.

Angel Investigations looks the same. The front desk is a mess with ancient books lying open and dusty on it. There are a bunch of papers on the floor with a bunch of figures and red lines on them. It looks like the gang had done some serious thinking while I was incapacitated. I move behind the front desk to my computer.

The area around it is spotless, ready for me to use it. The coffee pot is empty. I feel missed and smirk. I love my friends. I know they miss me, but I don't think they want me around them. They want the Cordelia that they know around them--the happy one. They don't want to know this Cordelia--the depressing, loner Cordelia. So, I'm waiting until she comes back to region the group. I don't know how long it will take, but I hope she'll come back soon. I miss her, too.

"Angel?" I hear footsteps coming down the stairs--quiet ones, stealthy--Angel's. He shouldn't be out of bed; he's a walking scab. "Angel, go back to bed. I'm fine--"

"Hi, Cordelia." Connor's got the emotionless stare down pat. I'm caught off guard and smile. I wasn't expecting him.

"Connor," I sigh. Almost glad that Angel's still asleep. Connor's quiet. He won't want to talk to me. "You're up early. Did I wake you?"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't sleep a lot." He doesn't bother to explain, just shrugs and moves over to the weapons cabinet. Opening it slowly, trying not to make a sound, he selects a long, sharp metal thing. I'm sure it's one of Angel's favorites.

"Hey, hey, hey. Whacha doing with that?" I feel older than I am when I talk to Connor. When I was his age, I would have hated me. I guess he doesn't know to hate me.

"I hunt in the morning. Vamps are tired. They get lazy," he's cold and fast to answer. He doesn't like talking. I get it.

"Does Angel know you're going out?" I feel like the ultimate nagging mom, but I can't help but be concerned. Wandering around L.A. in the early morning hours is not the safest activity around.

He shrugs. "Are you gonna tell him?"

_Of course not. I don't talk to Angel anymore._ "Connor, you can't just go off without anyone knowing. What if something happened? No one would know where you were."

"_You _know." He had a point.

"Connor, you can't go, all right? I'm sorry, but you can't. It isn't safe." Its stupid for me to coddle him. He's survived Hell; I've crumbled at a measly man with a knife.

He looks like he's going to fight me with crazy things like logic and fact, and then he doesn't. He puts the sword down and shrugged. "Fine," he threw at me and started to go back upstairs, two by two.

I sighed, feeling a powerful need to stop him rumble in my stomach. I bit my lip and before he reached the top step, called out, "Connor, wait."

He stopped at my voice, although it wasn't very loud. "What?" he just barely turned his torso toward me.

Taking a breath, I spoke words that hadn't crossed my lips in months, "Can I talk to you?"

**I'm promising you right now, this will not turn into season four. I just think Cordelia and Connor could have gotten along kinda well if Cordelia hadn't been evil. Check out the next chapter (coming soon) to see if I'm right.**

**Reviews are cherished beyond belief...**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Miracle Child and The Seer Attempt a Heart-to-Heart**

"Twenty-One," I told him, smiling gently at his question. "I'll be twenty-two in about a month." The realization of my words hit me like a brick. "Well, that was a fast year." I smirked, remembering all that had happened in the past year. He didn't smirk back at me. It had been a little bit longer for him. "You were a few days old for my last birthday," I whispered, almost more to myself than to him.

"I don't remember," he shrugged, not exactly disliking the topic. He was a kid of few words, but I understood that. He was making a definite effort to be liked by his father's co-workers, doing what we told him to and trying his hardest not to get into trouble. Utterly thrown into another world, he was still figuring out what was wanted of him.

"Yeah." We were sitting on the couch in the lobby, face to face, both of us Indian style like two preteen girls sharing gossip about boys. The lobby was still quiet, but for the sounds of our voices, the Miracle Child and the Seer, going off on the tangents of good conversation. "It would have been about a year ago that your mom showed up on that very doorstep," I nodded in the direction of the hotel's front door, where Darla had stood. "Pregnant and very angry."

"She didn't want me," he didn't sound depressed but rather matter-of-fact as he stated the disheartening proclamation.

Lying would have been simple and comforting, but Connor was smarter than he let on. He wasn't asking a question, he was telling me what he knew. "She didn't have to," I bravely put my hand on his. "We all wanted you enough to keep you around," smirking, I locked eyes with him. He had the eyes of a teenager, eager to be vulnerable but not knowing how to be.

"And your dad," I sighed, remembering the adorably concerned Angel of a year ago. "We gave your mom an ultra-sound." He looked confused. "It's this procedure that lets us see inside a pregnant woman's stomach, see what's inside." He half-nodded, half-understanding. "Well, we gave one to Darla and saw you for the very first time. We saw that you were human...that you were a boy. And, Connor, the look on your dad's face, was..." I got lost in the memory. I had never seen Angel happier than that moment. He was in awe of his son, even before he was born. The love that he felt for that tiny little baby was untouchable and perfect. I found Connor's eyes and sighed.

That love had been stolen from him.

"He loves you a lot, you know that, right?" I needed him to know how much Angel had given to him.

He shrugged, "He _did_."

"Connor," I pleaded with him through my broken heart. "He always will. He's your father; you can't make that kind of love go away."

"No, he still loves that little baby. He doesn't know me, and he doesn't want to. He wants to pretend that none of it ever happened, that I never existed." He knew that part of what he was saying was true, but didn't want to hear my answer. He was getting angry and hurt, not liking the feeling that his father wasn't happy with him through no fault of his own. "He wants to be in denial, like you." The turn was shocking and made my skin cold. "And I'm his scar."

"Connor." There were no words to tell him what I wanted to say. He was steadfast and fierce in his declaration, but looked relieved now that it was over. I found my eyes watering at his gaze. "You're not his..." I didn't mean to cry, but it happened without my approval.

Connor looked confused and scared. He didn't know how to handle crying. They didn't teach you that in Hell. "I'm," he put his head down, "I'm sorry, Cordelia." He wasn't really sorry. He was curious and interested.

I put my head up and wiped off my tears, "No, it's okay, Connor. That comment was not tear-worthy. I'm just...a little wobbly with the emotions, lately. I promise, I'm not always such a basket case."

"You're sad, because of what happened," he narrowed his eyes like he was studying me. He wasn't sympathetic or understanding. It was almost as if he had heard of this thing called sadness and was seeing it for the very first time.

I had never intended to discuss this with Connor. It wasn't his business; it wasn't his problem. I shrugged, "I'm getting better." I loved the feeling that it wasn't a lie.

"It isn't right, what happened," he was firm and looked me in the eye. He was sure of this.

I smirked at him, knowing where he'd gotten that. "Your dad tell you that?" I groaned inwardly, missing the conversation we'd been having before my ugly business was pulled into it.

"No," Connor said simply. "It's just wrong." I wasn't sure he knew what he was talking about. There was no way Holtz had taught him what rape was in Quortoth, and I seriously doubted that Angel had given him particulars.

"Okay, no argument here, but," I narrowed my eyes. "If you didn't get that from your dad, where'd you get it from?"

"It's, uh," he looked uncomfortable. "It's a long story." A person who had grown up with other people would have then proceeded to tell the long story, but not Connor. He broke his eyes away from mine, and closed himself off. He stood and towered over me. "I'm going to bed," was all he threw out to me as he headed back upstairs.

"Okay," I wanted to pry so badly, but felt it really wasn't the time. "See ya later, Connor." He didn't bother to turn around or stop moving away from me. He just gave a little wave of his hand. It didn't take my fine detective skills to tell that he was hiding something. Probably something painful and sad. Probably something he didn't want to share with the class. My eyes followed him up the stairs, and I sighed. He had been through so much and none of us had chipped beyond the surface of the iceberg. I suddenly wanted to know everything.

"Cordelia?" Oh, that voice. Apparently as I was watching Angel's son do absolutely nothing, Angel had come downstairs silently and taken the opportunity to ask me something very important. "Are you okay?"

**A/N: Connor was not raped, so don't worry about that. But something did go down...find out later! Please, review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's a really great feeling to know that people are and want to read what you've written. You guys rock.**

**Onto the tale...**

It was loud. The girls were screaming again. The boy kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. The man was grunting, a horrible animalistic sound that made the boy's body shiver and head ache. The girls were older than the boy, but much younger than the man. They used meaningless words in attempts to coerce the man.

Please.

Stop.

No.

There was never pure darkness, even when the boy closed his eyes. There was always the bright, red glowing blaze of the fire. It was normal, and the boy understood it. The memory of finding darkness behind his eyelids was long gone. Now he knew the red very well.

The man made excuses in his head. He had to keep fighting. He had to reproduce. It was a desperate time. Tragic things had to happen. The girls would understand eventually.

The two young girls knew nothing of any master plan to populate Hell with men. They knew that they had arrived in a terrible place where a man raped them as his little boy slept a few feet away.

When the boy grew a bit older, the girls had died, as had their babies. The man's plan had failed. The boy was angry. For some reason, he knew it was wrong.

**So, okay, that's where Connor's coming from in a really tiny, two hundred word or so nutshell. Haven't decided yet if Cordelia's ever going to find this out. Tell me what you think.**


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